


The Zen of Tenzō

by ohayohimawari



Category: Naruto
Genre: Buddhism, Feel-good, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Monk!Tenzou, Post-Fourth Shinobi War, Ten Days of Tenzo, parables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25656211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohayohimawari/pseuds/ohayohimawari
Summary: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/688468842392977408/759572495077474315/The_Zen_of_Tenzo_Cover.jpgIn the era of peace, Tenzō wishes to claim some of it for himself, and he retires from shinobi life in order to pursue it. Follow the journey of his first year in robes in this series of parables.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Ten Days of Tenzō 2020 event.  
> Each chapter is based on one of the daily prompts (each prompt will be the chapter title as well).
> 
> I do not own these characters; I'm having a wonderful time leading them to inner peace.

The greatest gift that Tenzō ever received was time to think.

It was granted to him long after _Yamato_ was assigned to watch over the once-villain Orochimaru. He’d spent years’ worth of days cycling through anger, bitterness, worry, regret, and guilt… All the while maintaining surveillance on the person he blamed for altering his body and life.

The decision to quit the circling thoughts of the injustices inflicted upon _Kinoe_ -and whoever he was before- was a conscious one. However, he couldn’t say when anger gave way to acceptance, only that he was grateful for it.

No longer burning and more aware of himself than he ever had been before, he returned to Konoha. He approached the Rokudaime’s office, intent upon expressing a wish instead of delivering a report.

The Hokage didn’t bother to hide the book he read while he ignored his paperwork, and his former kohai didn’t bother to hide his chuckle.

“Welcome back,” Kakashi lifted his eyes from the page to regard him. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” he replied.

Although it remained mostly hidden, Kakashi’s expression changed from mirth to seriousness.

“What is it?” Hatake asked.

“I,” he hesitated as he replied, “I think I would like a reassignment—No,” he closed his eyes and drew a bracing breath to speak the truth. “I would like to retire.” He opened his eyes again and searched Kakashi’s eyes, hoping he wouldn’t find disappointment within them.

When he found none, he felt encouraged to continue. “I’d like to be free to pursue something else.”

Kakashi reclined in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, obviously genuinely curious.

“Your request is approved, of course,” whatever questions he had he kept to himself, for now. “I can’t think of anyone as deserving of peace as you are,” he added quietly.

His shoulders relaxed in relief. “Thank you, Lord Kaka—”

“Drop the ‘Lord’ part, would you?” Kakashi stood up and looked out the windows of the Hokage Tower. “Or else I’ll take too long assigning your replacement.”

Silence settled over the office while Kakashi gazed out the window and the other gazed at his back. His request was approved, but he didn’t feel like their conversation was over.

“This means that your codename will retire too,” Kakashi mused aloud. “What name would you like now?”

“The one that I chose for myself,” Tenzō replied immediately.

Kakashi nodded and looked at Tenzō over his shoulder. “What do you want to pursue?”

“Stillness,” Tenzō chuckled at how odd his vague goal sounded when spoken aloud. “For my own sake,” he added.

Kakashi turned his face away to look out the window again. “I’ll make finding your replacement my top priority,” he said without an ounce of teasing. “In return, please don’t go so far that I can’t reach you for _my_ own sake.”

“I won’t.” It was easy for Tenzō to assure him. He had no intention of straying too far from Konoha, and he was touched by his old captain and friend’s continued concern for his well-being.

Kakashi waved a hand over his shoulder, which Tenzō understood as his dismissal. He left the Hokage’s office and the entire shinobi world shortly after that in favor of a quiet, contemplative existence.


	2. Seedling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monk Tenzō illustration by [Tenzo's New Leaf](https://tenzosnewleaf.tumblr.com/) (shared with permission, do not repost).

Soon after he traded his jōnin vest for robes, Tenzō’s year of teachings began.

And he was his first student.

He had more worries than belongings, and they weighed him down more than any material possession could. During his initial week of dedicated meditation, his thoughts jumped between fear of the future he’d chosen, and doubt that he would succeed.

Tenzō rose before the sun and sat in the grassy clearing near his humble mokuton cabin. His mind was cluttered as he crossed his legs and placed one hand atop the other in his lap with both palms facing up. He cut through his frustration with a sharp exhale and attempted a different approach to reign in his racing thoughts.

Visualization had helped him master jutsus that no one could teach him, and so he relied upon it again. His imagination quickly delivered a great, rushing river.

In his mind, he approached the river and peered into its depths. The swift waters ran over, around, and between the sharp and slippery rocks he knew were there, churning mud and silt from the riverbed that prevented his ability to see them clearly.

It was easy for Tenzō to liken this image to his own mind. The dangerous rocks were his fears and doubts, and the rushing water was his thoughts. Like the water, Tenzō was in a hurry to avoid and escape what troubled him. However, when confronted with them, he conceded that those negative aspects were as deserving of recognition and acceptance as the rest of him.

In the waking world, Tenzō raised his right hand from his lap. He extended the index and pinky fingers while folding the others. The gesture was much simpler than the complex hand signs he was used to weaving, but the purpose behind it was much more powerful. He employed the Karana Mudra to help ward off evil, and protect him from negative thoughts as he prepared to confront what he previously avoided.

The waters within his mind stilled, and the dirt and debris settled. Tenzō looked down at too many rocks to count.

He recognized and named each one as he collected them. Fear, Shame, Regret, Selfishness, Rage, and Hatred, until he’d gathered them all. They felt so heavy in his arms that his muscles physically ached along with the vision. But still, he found that he could hold them _and_ himself upright at the same time.

Acknowledgment of his troubles didn’t make them disappear, but the longer he stood there holding them, the less they overpowered him. Tenzō knew that he couldn’t continue to carry them, but he couldn’t drop them, or otherwise ignore or deny them. He was left with only one option, which was to figure out how to use them.

In his shinobi training, visualization opened the door to transformation, and it was how he harnessed the combined power of water and earth to create mokuton. Tenzō looked down at the rocks in his arms, and in an instant, the solution became clear.

He squeezed his arms together, grinding the rocks between them, crushing them and compressing them until they’d merged and reduced to the size of a seed. Tenzō knew there was far too much energy trapped in such a tiny thing and so he did what came naturally to him and planted it.

Outside of the vision, Tenzō’s raised right hand relaxed on its own and lowered to his leg where it rested. His finger touched the earth, forming the Bhumisparsa Mudra. Within the vision, that which he knew couldn’t be contained sprouted forth from the ground as a fresh, bright green seedling.

Tenzō stood motionless while he admired it. To think that so much pain and ugliness could create something so beautiful astonished him. He and the seedling had connected in their separation from one another, and he hovered over it in wonder.

He didn’t know how long he stood in the vision, making promises to the seedling to care for it and nurture it. As his consciousness gradually awoke, he was surprised at how dark it still seemed to be through his closed eyelids. He blinked them open, wondering if what felt like hours in his mind had passed in mere minutes and that he experienced the whole journey before the sun had risen. He heard the rustling of many leaves above him, and his breath caught when he looked up.

The sun had not only risen but had traveled to the center of the sky. However, a great tree had grown fully during his meditation, its mature branches and leaves shading him from the harsh noon light.

Tenzō laughed so hard that he uncrossed his legs and stretched out flat on his back in the grass beneath the tree. No matter how hard or for how long he tried to master it, mokuton remained a wild and humbling phenomenon.

His laughter subsided as he watched the grand leaves of his new tree glint gold and red when the autumn wind blew them, and the sun illuminated them. He reached his right hand to the base of the tree and ran it along the thick, rough bark that protected it. He was proud of his unintentional addition to his garden.

It struck him that if it hadn’t been for Orochimaru’s experimentation, this miracle wouldn’t exist. That fact didn’t justify or excuse the Sannin’s actions, but it made the impossible, possible.

At that moment, Tenzō found himself able to forgive Orochimaru without invalidating the pain he’d experienced in the past.

What’s more, if he could forgive Orochimaru, he figured that he could forgive anyone. Tenzō could even forgive himself.

He watched the colorful canopy of leaves dance in the breeze until his eyelids were too heavy to stay open. Tenzō drifted off into the most contented nap he had in memory, perhaps even beyond.

And when he woke again, he moved forward in life with newfound clarity and calm.


	3. Traveler

The coldest rain of the year fell in late autumn.

It was a dreary time when the leaves lay decomposing on the ground, and the tree branches were bare. All the vivid colors of fall desaturated to dull browns and greys. Then, the cold rains began, washing away the last remnants of warm tones from the earth before winter sealed it in ice.

That late autumn saw more rainfall than usual. Tenzō made it his habit to check how high the nearby rivers rose because several ran near the roads that many travelers followed to get to and from Konoha. The rising waters threatened to render several paths impassable, and because the monk _could_ do something to make it safer, he saw it as his duty that he _should_.

The excessive downpours continued, and the inevitable occurred. Tenzō arrived at a flooded section while two travelers, both completely concealed in their cloaks, approached it from opposite directions. One traveler who was departing was near the dangerous crossing, while the other who was approaching Konoha slowed his steps to observe from a distance.

Wordlessly, Tenzō wove a few hand signs that were familiar to both travelers. Each froze, the one departing took a step back, and the one arriving brushed his hair out of his eyes. The action revealed his single, swirling purple iris, a vibrant speck of color in the subdued surroundings.

Streams of fresh-cut lumber erupted from the monk’s hands. They twisted around one another, arranging themselves into an orderly, secure bridge that spanned the flood. His jutsu complete, Tenzō brought his hands to his face to wipe the streaming raindrops from it. The departing traveler crossed the bridge and then raised his hand to wave his thanks before continuing on his way.

The other traveler’s eye widened in recognition and surprise; there weren’t many details that escaped his rinnegan. From that distance, he clearly saw the other’s familiar, round spectacles and that the other traveler’s arm bore pale scales where there ought to be skin.

“Welcome back, Sasuke.” Tenzō’s greeting came muffled under the strengthening downpour as he approached the remaining traveler. “I’m sure that you’re eagerly expected, but I think it would be best if you stop and rest in my cabin until the rain lets up.”

“Hn,” Sasuke assented and followed the monk to his home.

“Would you like tea?” Tenzō asked after they arrived and shook the rain off themselves.

“Yes, thank you, Captain Yamato,” Sasuke replied, but then he corrected himself. “Although it seems I shouldn’t call you ‘captain’ any longer.”

“To be honest, you shouldn’t call me either. My name is Tenzō,” he set down a cup of tea in front of his guest.

“Hn,” Sasuke replied thoughtfully.

The pair passed an hour in expectant silence. Tenzō addressed his daily household tasks while Sasuke alternated between watching him and the rain. The monk knew that the traveler had questions for him, but waited patiently for the other to deliver them.

Finally, with his gaze firmly out the window, Sasuke began to voice his thoughts. “Why did you make that bridge for Kabuto?”

“So he could safely cross and continue on his way.”

Sasuke turned to face Tenzō and attempted to ask the same question in a different way. “ _How_ could you make that bridge for Kabuto?”

“Because I can wield mokuton,” came the monk’s equally simple reply.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Sasuke looked intently at his host, considering how to elaborate upon his implication.

“Kabuto put you through hell in the Fourth War,” Sasuke returned his gaze out the window as he recounted the horrible crimes that Kabuto committed. “He turned you into a weapon and used you against your comrades.”

“Yes, that is what happened,” Tenzō’s soft, succinct reply drew Sasuke’s attention again.

“Then why did you help Kabuto by making a bridge for him?”

“So he could safely cross and continue on his way,” Tenzō repeated. “That is also where I left him behind me. Why do you insist on still carrying him?” he asked, catching Sasuke off guard.

It took a few moments for the traveler to locate the monk’s lesson within his question.

“Hn,” Sasuke conceded when he found it.


	4. Rogue Ninja

The cold autumn rains became snow, signaling the transition to winter.

Frost and ice formed an alliance that ushered in an early deep freeze. The world was barren, and Tenzō was thankful for the daily offerings of food that the Hidden Leaf villagers delivered to him.

However, not all the visitors to his cabin came with gifts.

In the dead of night in the dead of winter, a rogue ninja found the monk’s home and broke into it. Tenzō woke at the clatter but was more startled by the trespasser’s appearance than he was by their arrival. He didn’t know who the other man was, but he didn’t have to in order to know _what_ he was.

The other’s headband was so marred that Tenzō couldn’t identify which village the intruder abandoned, but that was the least important detail. Ice clung to the rogue ninja’s unkempt beard; his nose and ears were red with the beginning of frostbite. His eyes proved his desperation, and his whole body shuddered from the winter’s chill.

“I know you; I’ve seen you before on the battlefield,” the rogue hissed through chattering teeth.

“My name is Tenzō,” the monk replied, determining whether or not it was safe to close the distance between them. He chanced a step, and the rogue reacted with the swiftest of shinobi reflexes despite his deteriorated physical state.

“Don’t come near me!” His voice cracked through his exclamation, harsh, hoarse, and frantic, while his shaking fingers fumbled with his weapons pouch.

Tenzō retreated and extended his arms out at his sides to show that he was unarmed.

“I’ve seen what you can do,” the rogue remained poised to defend or attack; the ice in his beard began to melt and drip as he spoke. “You don’t need a weapon; you _are_ a weapon. A change of clothing doesn’t change that.”

“True,” Tenzō agreed. “However, I can also help, and you need it.”

Neither of the men spoke nor moved, and the standoff continued for several tense minutes that seemed like hours. As they stood facing each other, color began to creep back into the rogue ninja’s lips, and soon after, he dropped his arms in resignation.

Tenzō exhaled his relief and looked around his cabin. He realized then that giving up so many of his possessions meant that he was left with too little to give. He moved a chair near his wood-burning stove and fed the fire within it.

The rogue ninja took the seat that was offered to him while the monk went to his closet to retrieve his old winter traveling cloak. Tenzō draped it on the rogue’s shoulders, and the intruder startled, but then wrapped the cloak around himself.

Tenzō went to his cupboard and winced at the meager contents within it. “There’s tea, or broth, if you’d prefer, and there will be food in the morning.”

“Broth,” the rogue replied.

The monk was happy he could give that much, and quickly warmed it on the stove. Once the intruder was settled as if he were a guest, Tenzō pulled the blanket from his bed to add an extra layer of warmth to the other man.

“This is fine, you’ve done enough,” the rogue waved his hand to refuse it.

Tenzō returned to his bed and sat on the edge of it. The rogue drained his bowl of broth and then refilled it from the pot that was left on the stove. “Just because it is an era of peace doesn’t mean that all of us find it,” he said.

“That’s not something I could give to you even if I tried,” Tenzō replied.

“You’re not much of a monk, are you? I thought you all were full of wisdom and advice,” the rogue grumbled, “and eager to showcase both.”

“I’m new to this,” Tenzō said a little defensively. “Besides, I’m reminded that I have two ears, but only one mouth. I assume that’s because I should listen twice as much as I speak.”

The rogue ninja turned in his chair to look at him but said nothing.

“I don’t have much, but they’re both yours if you need them,” the monk offered.

The rogue ninja turned back to the fire and stared into it. “Thank you.”

Those two words were quickly followed by more. Tenzō’s guest told stories, recollected memories, and more. The monk relaxed a little more each time he noticed how strong the other’s voice gradually became, and he reclined in his bed when the other’s laughter finally rang in the cabin.

Tenzō opened his eyes to bright sunlight flooding his silent, empty cabin. He shot up out of bed, mortified that he’d fallen asleep. He pulled the door open and peered outside.

The other man was long gone, along with Tenzō’s daily offered meal, which he had offered to his guest in turn. He was glad that the other had accepted it.

Tenzō closed his door to the frigid air and smiled when he found that a gift had also been left for him. His old traveling cloak was folded neatly and draped across the back of the chair. The monk smiled at it, knowing that - even though he had so little - if the other man didn’t need it, he’d given enough to ensure that the rogue ninja was no longer wandering aimlessly.


	5. Sensei

A new year began, though winter paid no heed to it. The cold wind and snow carried on as if a holiday hadn’t tried to interrupt it. A week after the celebrations and the decorations were put away, the world was rendered colorless again.

But then one day, sunshine arrived on Tenzō’s doorstep with two containers of ramen in hand.

“Naruto! It’s good to see you, come in out of the cold,” the monk ushered his surprise guest into his cabin and quickly closed the door to the winter wind.

“Thank you, Captain Yama—er, I mean Monk Yama—Captain-Monk,” Naruto tripped over titles while he stepped out of his winter boots.

“My name is Tenzō,” the monk smiled.

“Is it? Well, that makes it a lot easier, ya know?” Naruto laughed as he handed the cups of ramen to his host.

He shook off his jacket and unwound a scarf that was made with more love than skill from around his neck. He folded it carefully and set it atop his coat before seating himself at Tenzō’s table.

The monk set the two cups of ramen on the table and put a full tea kettle on the stove to boil. Then, he joined his guest, noting a serious shadow that settled in the other’s bright blue eyes.

Tenzō had seen this expression on Naruto many times before and understood what it meant. He could recognize the frustrated teen he knew in the adult man that sat before him.

“What’s wrong?”

Naruto sighed and clasped his hands together. “I’m having trouble with my studies, and I was hoping,” his striking eyes met Tenzō’s, “that you would be my sensei.”

The monk was too surprised to answer right away. He was flattered, of course, but also felt he was underqualified to groom the Hokage-apparent.

Naruto quickly filled the silence, however. “It’s just, well, I’m no good in a classroom, and I shouldn’t even have to _be_ there, ya know?” Naruto smacked his hands on the table, punctuating his frustration.

“I trained under the Pervy Sage,” Naruto looked down at the table as he spoke. “I learned sage mode on Mount Myōboku. I mastered Kurama—well, don’t tell _him_ I said that, but we’ve got an understanding now, ya know?”

Naruto lifted his gaze to the monk again. “I even met the Super-Gramps Sage! So why should I have to sit in a classroom with my old ninja academy teacher again, ya know?”

Tenzō could see Naruto’s arguments, but he also saw through them. “That doesn’t sound like you at all, Naruto. Now, tell me what’s really wrong.”

Naruto’s gaze shifted to the side for a moment before he looked down at his hands again. His fingers fiddled a little, and he sighed through his nose. “My son is going to start school soon. I don’t want him to see his Old Man sitting in a classroom. It’s all I can think about whenever I go to the Ninja Academy for my lessons. It’s embarrassing.”

Tenzō hummed in understanding and nodded his head. Before he could think of what to say, the tea kettle whistled, and he got up to retrieve it from the stove. Naruto peeled back the lids on each ramen cup and positioned them in the middle of the table.

Inspiration struck the monk as he approached with the kettle in hand. He began to pour water into one of the cups and kept pouring even after it was overfilled. Water ran across his table, carrying noodles off the sides where it dripped down onto the floor of his cabin.

“Uh, you can stop now,” Naruto said sarcastically.

“Why?” Tenzō asked.

“Because the cup is too full; you can’t fit any more water in there, ya know?” Naruto scoffed.

“Ah, I see.” Tenzō stopped pouring immediately and met Naruto’s gaze. “That cup is like your mind. It’s too full for your lessons to fit in it,” he reached for the remaining ramen cup and poured the correct amount of water into it. He pushed it toward Naruto, adding, “You should try emptying it before you return, and you’ll graduate out of that classroom much faster.”

Naruto groaned and rolled his eyes as he accepted the cup. “Fine, I’ll go back. At least Iruka-sensei respects ramen.”

Tenzō chuckled lightly to himself, congratulating himself on the successful lesson as he took his seat at the other end of the table.

“Besides, you’re not as wise as I thought you were, ya know?” Naruto chuckled opposite him as he broke apart a pair of chopsticks.

“What?” Tenzō asked, affronted.

“You ruined your lunch,” Naruto slurped his noodles and laughed louder when the monk took his turn to groan.


	6. Kakashi

Impermanence is the only constant, and the turn of seasons is but one example.

The sun’s rays shone stronger, challenging winter at its bleakest end. It coaxed the tender shoots of spring up from the ground and rewarded them with light and meltwater that nourished them. Shades of yellow and green finally returned to the landscape.

The confirmation of the earth’s renewal came in the form of little green buds that populated Tenzō’s magnificent tree branches. He stood beneath it, admiring them when an old friend joined him.

“Hello, Tenzō,” Kakashi greeted him.

Tenzō smiled at the use of his chosen name and that there was one person to whom he didn’t have to reintroduce himself.

“That’s some tree you’ve got there,” Kakashi looked up as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I can see why you’ve built your cabin near it.”

“Actually, it was the other way around,” Tenzō admitted sheepishly.

Kakashi managed to restrain his chuckles for half a moment. Tenzō joined him, and the pair’s laughter bubbled beneath the latest marvelous mokuton mishap.

“I wonder if it will have blossoms,” Kakashi cleared his throat to speak through his amusement.

“That would be nice,” Tenzō wiped the last of his mirth from his eye.

Kakashi turned to face Tenzō and didn’t attempt to hide the fact that he was silently scrutinizing the monk. After years under his command, Tenzō had become accustomed to this. In all the time that they’d known each other, they never judged each other. The monk knew this was how the Hokage checked in on his friend.

“You look well,” Kakashi deemed, “you look rested and happy.”

“I am, thank you.”

“Do you have everything you need out here?” Kakashi asked. “Are you getting enough to eat?”

“Ah, so that solves the mystery of how daily offerings began to show up on my doorstep.”

Kakashi shrugged one shoulder and offered a noncommittal noise.

“Thank you, Lord Hokage,” Tenzō bowed, and before the other man could bristle over the use of his title, the monk changed the subject. “How is my replacement doing?”

Kakashi grunted. “You don’t want to know.”

“You’re right; I don’t want to know.”

Kakashi returned his gaze to the tree. “The most recent ANBU agents are not what we were. They’re a product of an era of peace, I suppose,” he sniffed. “It makes me wonder if I’m doing something right for a change,” he confided.

Tenzō took his turn to scrutinize his former captain. “You are so damn hard on yourself. You’ve _always_ been so damn hard on yourself,” he tried to keep his exasperation out of his tone of voice.

Kakashi remained still. He didn’t reply. His expression remained fixed, not a muscle twitched.

“How is it that you can show compassion to anyone - to everyone - but you?”

Kakashi shook his head, but the monk pressed on before the Hokage could dodge.

“Kakashi,” Tenzō used his name without any title in an attempt to get through to the man that was his friend. “‘You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.’”

The Buddha’s words slowly descended upon both men, and to Tenzō’s relief, Kakashi didn’t argue.

“Is that why you look so happy?”

“It’s part of it,” Tenzō replied.

Kakashi lowered his gaze to the ground and nodded. “I don’t know if I can do that, but—”

“No matter how many times it takes,” Tenzō interrupted him, “allow me to remind you of that truth until you can remove all doubt from your response.”


	7. Time Travel

It only took a few weeks for fauna to catch up with flora that spring. In less than a month, the world went from barren and foreboding to full of layered greens and bustling life.

The dawn chorus of birds gently roused Tenzō from his bed, and after his morning meditation and reflection, tempted him to explore the forests that surrounded Konoha. The trees were not strangers to him, but his experience among them was different. He walked between and around them rather than leap through them. Instead of looking out for enemy ninjas, he took notes on edible mushrooms, herbs, and medicinal plants. Besides, he hoped to find where the bees made their homes to satisfy a particular craving, one that he was happy he wouldn’t have to deny for the sake of his new way of life.

Tenzō was deep in the forest one afternoon when he heard the unmistakable struggle of a ninja’s training above the spring symphony of insects and birds. He slowed his steps, cautiously allowing a string of bitten-off curses and frustrated growls to lead him to the one that uttered them. Eventually, he found a clearing and within it, Konohamaru.

The young boy that Tenzō once knew as Naruto’s shadow was now a young man. He’d outgrown one awkward stage and reached another. Konohamaru was at the point in his life where he’d learned all the lessons his teachers could offer but was not yet ready to pass them on to students of his own.

Sweat and dirt mixed in streaks across his face, marring his appearance. However, it didn’t mask Konohamaru’s fierce determination, his intense focus, and his exhaustion. The monk remained in the shadows observing the other, and upon closer inspection, noticed burns and multiple small cuts on the young man’s hands.

It was clear to Tenzō that Konohamaru was pushing himself to develop the rasenshuriken further. It alarmed him to see it because he knew the dangers that jutsu presented, so he stepped out of the shadows and approached the young ninja.

“Ah,” Konohamaru panted out his greeting, “I didn’t mean to disturb you, Captain—”

“My name is Tenzō,” he lifted his hand to excuse his interruption and continued to cut to the quick. “I think you should stop for now and rest yourself.”

“I can’t do that,” Konohamaru shook his head in refusal.

“You won’t last long at this rate—”

“I _have_ to!” The other shouted, and then swayed on the spot.

Tenzō extended his arm to steady Konohamaru and waited for him to get a handle on his temper.

“I am older now than Naruto was when he defeated Kaguya. No matter what I do, I’m no better than I was as the kid that trailed behind him,” the young man caught his breath, though his footing faltered.

Tenzō used that opportunity to lead him to sit down against a tree, but it exacerbated Konohamaru’s frustration with himself.

He cradled his head in his hands. “How can I be the Eighth Hokage if I can’t prove that I’m as strong, or stronger than Naruto? I _have_ to master his jutsu at the very least.”

Tenzō offered his water canister to Konohamaru, along with advice. “You’re too focused on the past and the future to see where you are in the present.”

Perhaps it was because Konohamaru was too thirsty to argue that he didn’t reply. The monk seized the opportunity to continue.

“Naruto didn’t develop the rasenshuriken by himself. He had the help of teachers, and, well, I was there helping him too. However, even with multiple guides, that jutsu was deemed too dangerous, and you shouldn’t be practicing it alone,” Tenzō warned.

“But, Naruto could—”

“Naruto could rely upon the chakra and healing power of the Nine-Tails, can you?”

Konohamaru’s argument was cut short at this. He closed his mouth, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Tenzō softened his tone of voice. “You should be proud of accomplishing as much as you have of his jutsu. Imagine what you could do if you focused on your present self and the skills that you currently have.”

Konohamaru’s eyes met his, and to his relief, there was no anger or frustration to be found within them.

“What was in the past, was, and what will be in the future will be. _Now_ is the time you can address,” the monk continued. “Find something that grounds you in this moment. Focus on your surroundings and what is occurring _now_ to keep you here.”

Konohamaru exhaled sharply through his nose, and then closed his eyes in apparent concentration. It only took a moment for his face to screw up in pain. “My hands hurt,” he hissed through his gritted teeth.

“Then now is when we should get you to my cabin to tend to them,” Tenzō helped Konohamaru to his feet, “and hopefully, your future self will remember that you’ve already learned this lesson the hard way.”


	8. Tattoos

The summer sun burned off the last of the chill that lingers in spring, and heat from the warming earth rose to meet it. These were the pleasant days that opened the new season, and Tenzō took full advantage of them.

However, he enjoyed one day _so_ much that it landed him in Konoha’s hospital.

“Good afternoon Captain Yamat— _oh_ ,” Sakura stopped in her tracks when she looked up from the clipboard she held and saw her patient.

“By nabe id Tebzō,” the monk reintroduced himself to his former teammate through swollen lips.

“Tenzō, huh?” Sakura proved her professional experience by understanding him. “Looks like we’ll have to update the name _and_ profession on your file before you leave today,” she set the clipboard aside then pushed a stool closer to him before she sat down and looked him over. “But, let’s fix you up so you can answer me first.”

Chakra radiated outward from Sakura’s hands as she brought them up and nearer to him. They hovered above his skin, and he could see the calming faint green glow before he felt the soothing relief of healing pour over him.

“So,” Sakura giggled, “was the honey worth so many bee stings?”

Tenzō nodded emphatically, causing her to laugh even louder.

“Well, I suppose that it’s no good cautioning you to stay away from their hives. Lucky for you, there’s a remedy that I can send home with you for the next time,” she winked. “Do you have a pocket in those robes where you can keep it handy?”

Tenzō’s chuckles renewed Sakura’s laughter. It only lasted a few moments, however, and seriousness overtook her features.

She kept her gaze directed at her work as she attempted to probe deeper into his mind through conversation, checking his health both physically and mentally. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to isolate yourself from everyone after the war. Many of our shinobi haven’t been the same since then,” she raised her eyes to meet his. “You’re not running away from anything, are you?”

Tenzō shook his head and attempted a reassuring smile. He was pleased to feel that the swelling had already gone down significantly.

Sakura returned the smile and relief filled her eyes before she lowered them to pay attention to healing him. “You made quite an impression on the waiting room and hospital staff,” she spoke softly.

Tenzō opened his mouth, stretching his lips to test if the swelling had gone down enough for him to enunciate. “I suppose the sight of a monk with a swollen face and too many bee stings isn’t something you’d see every day,” he chuckled at himself.

“That’s not—well, yes, there’s that,” Sakura interrupted herself for a brief and shallow laugh before her expression became somber again. “One doesn’t expect to meet with a monk that has an ANBU tattoo.”

Tenzō hummed in understanding. “Yes, I suppose that doesn’t quite fit the appearance that most would assume, does it?”

The green glow disappeared from around Sakura’s hands, signaling the cessation of chakra flow upon the completion of treating the monk’s injuries. She turned her gaze to his shoulder, “I could remove it for you. A small scar would remain, but it would be much less noticeable.”

“Thank you for your concern, Sakura,” Tenzō smiled at her compassion for him, “but I’d rather it stay as it is. It’s a part of my journey, and I wouldn’t be who I am now without it.”

Sakura’s bright, brilliant eyes searched his to confirm that he was as content as he said he was. “You have to endure a few stings to get to the sweetness in life,” Tenzō assured.

“You’d be the expert on that,” Sakura genuinely laughed as she stood up from the stool. “Does genjutsu work on bees? Perhaps you could distract them the next time you crave honey,” she considered aloud as she crossed the room.

The monk laughed at the idea. “Maybe, but it’s in their nature to sting, and I can’t blame them for it,” he stood up as well. “And I wouldn’t alter them just to suit my preferences.”


	9. Tenzō’s Birthday

The wildest weather of the year occurs in August.

The persistent downpours of autumn, the wind-tossed snow of winter, and the soft spring rains are nothing compared to the sudden storms of summer.

The sky gave little warning that it was about to throw everything it had at the ground below. Clouds quickly blocked the sun until it was almost as dark as night. Blinding electric streaks crossed the sky, thunder’s threatening rumbles shook the earth, and the winds were so strong it blew the rain sideways.

As violent and frequent as these storms were, they could offer only the briefest respite from the stagnant, sweltering days. Tenzō took to beginning his tasks much earlier in the morning to complete them well before the hottest hours. Between noon and sunset, the sun’s rays were intolerable, and Tenzō was thankful for the cool shade provided by his magnificent tree. He would sit and listen to the cicadas’ song that calmed his mind until he drifted into a deep meditative state.

It was there that he found the stillness he’d sought.

It was also the place that he was found one afternoon near the halfway point of the hottest month of the year.

“Tenzō,” Kakashi spoke his name gently, almost regretfully for disturbing him.

The monk could hear a note of urgency within his friend’s soft-spoken baritone and opened his eyes to give his full attention to the Hokage.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I-I have something for you.” Kakashi pulled a brown, paper-sized envelope which he had tucked beneath his armored vest. “If you want it, that is.”

Tenzō focused on the envelope. There was no writing on it; in fact, it was devoid of _any_ hint at its contents. However, it looked heavy in his friend’s hand.

Kakashi cleared his throat. “I’ve been renegotiating the terms of Orochimaru’s house arrest in exchange for information regarding his past experiments. Some of that information is essential for multiple reasons,” he shuffled his weight from one foot to another.

Tenzō had known Kakashi long enough to tell when he was nervous. He took it as a sign of their close friendship that the other man could let his guard down enough to show it. “It’s alright, Kakashi,” he assured him.

Kakashi nodded and held the envelope higher. “I’ve received the first file that I requested as a good-faith gesture from him.”

Tenzō’s eyes darted back to the envelope. He could feel his heart rate accelerate and slowed his breathing to keep it in check.

“These are the records of the mokuton test subjects.”

The monk couldn’t tear his eyes from the envelope while the words he’d longed to hear almost his entire known life echoed in his ears. His breath, pulse, and thoughts quickened faster than he could master them. Though he sat still and yet unblinking, unbridled emotions and nausea mounted within him. Just when he thought he could explode with a scream, he realized the power of decision, and the words fell from his mouth almost as quickly as they came to mind, stilling him once more.

“I don’t need it.”

He shifted his gaze to meet Kakashi’s. “My name is Tenzō, and I know who I am.”

Kakashi’s eyes crinkled in the corners, betraying his hidden smile as he tucked the envelope back underneath his vest. Then, he sat down beside the monk beneath the tree.

“I guess I’ll have to come to terms with not ever getting you a birthday present,” he said once he settled with his back against the tree.

“You’d give me a birthday present?” Tenzō teased.

“Well, I mean,” Kakashi stammered, “I’d mark it on my calendar anyway.” He raised one hand in a grand gesture as he continued, “I’d write it in bright red letters; _Tenzō’s Birthday_.”

The monk laughed so hard that it silenced the cicadas. Then it dawned on him that he could make more than one important decision that day. Tenzō turned to Kakashi and asked, “What’s today’s date?”

“I hope that I’ll lose track of time like you have when I retire, too,” he chuckled his answer. “It’s the tenth of August.”

“That settles it,” the monk smiled at how the date and his name shared a syllable. “It feels like a good day for a birthday.”

“It’s considerate of you to choose one that’s easy to remember,” Kakashi tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “But that doesn’t leave me enough time to get you a present this year.”

The monk smiled at Kakashi, silently thanking him for an entire year of time to think because it was the greatest gift that Tenzō ever received.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Das Zen des Tenzō](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783406) by [Ted_Bear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ted_Bear/pseuds/Ted_Bear)




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